Goofy Is King
by Jojo6
Summary: SJ. Future fic. No spoilers!


Goofy is King 

Summary: Goofy is the King, man! 

Rating: PG 

Season: Future. No spoilers. 

A/N: Thanks to Karen for not only beta-ing but also sitting on AIM while I asked her if the US had plasters (no – band-aids) and taps (could be that or faucet, no one is certain), and thanks to Melly for also beta-ing! And, damn, if I didn't get that cold fusion in *somewhere* :D   


As always, feedback is much appreciated.   
  


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Being semi-retired ("So I'm what? Semi-Ambassador to the Asgard and other Weird Ass Aliens?" "That would be essentially it, Jack." "Cool. Do I get paid vacation?") seemed to mean Jack spent a lot of his time being napped upon.

Actually, on this particular occasion, in addition to the napping, he was also being drooled upon. On his favorite Simpsons t-shirt, no less, and just under his right nipple.

Pondering the top of the head of his napping, drooling girlfriend – Ha! She would so kick his ass if he said that to her face – Jack reminded himself he got a great deal of sex out of this relationship, which entirely made up for the damp patch just over Marge's blue hair.

Admittedly, after the sex, she usually fell asleep on him, under him, next to him and, on special occasions, the other end of him, and while it would be nice to imagine this was because he was pretty damn sprightly in bed, he was more realistic.

Carter worked far too much and too damn hard and soon – not yet, but soon – they were going to have a little chat about that.

He was not looking forward to this chat.

For now, at least, he was willing to let it slide. Two months, twenty-one days and.... a number of hours and minutes into the relationship was too early to talk seriously. Jack didn't do serious at the best of times and he'd always suspected she liked him best for his silly qualities.

So the napping and the drool and the evenings and weekends spent cuddling in various positions on his or her couch was going to stand for the time being while he worked out a way to approach the topic of reducing the SGC's dependence on her and reducing her dependence on work.

"Good thing you're cute," he told her sternly, patting her butt before blindly reaching for the remote, which was nestled down by his thigh. He started to flick channels and was just about to settle on the Discovery Channel – 'Oooh, volcanos!' – when he heard a car pull up out front. They were at her house this weekend so the car didn't pull up a driveway and tell him for sure if they were about to have visitors.

He muted the TV and waited. A door slammed. Sounded as if someone was getting out but he could still hear an engine running. Soon after that, the car drove off, but he waited a few moments more. It wasn't unusual for one of the guys to be driven here – even if they did usually call in advance – so he listened further.

Slight scuffling. Yes, someone was at the door now. He tensed, waiting for the inevitable doorbell that would send Carter's head shooting up (knocking him on the chin in the process) but when that didn't happen, he found himself frowning. Maybe the car was a coincidence – the neighbors could be having people over – but that still left someone standing on the porch. 

Who the hell was it? The paperboy had been there already and he never got off his bike anyway.

Keys. Definitely keys – jingling. Who had keys to Carter's place? He did – obviously – and the boys had spares as well, for emergencies. But Daniel and Teal'c knew they were at home so they'd ring the doorbell.

An ex-boyfriend? 

There was a soft curse, the clatter of keys hitting the porch floor (he'd done that oh-so many times), then finally, metal slid into metal and the door opened. There was a loud thud as something was dropped on Carter's nice, wooden hall floor.

A familiar figure walked past the open living room door in BDUs and then, a moment later, Jacob Carter walked back and looked into the living room.

Jack raised the remote in greeting, too surprised to say anything.

Jacob stared.

Jack smiled faintly.

Jacob... abruptly turned right and walked off. There was the sound of the door closing and footsteps scuffing down the path.

Hmm.

He turned his head and tried to see something of Carter's face beyond the tufts of blonde hair. "You did tell him, right?"

Carter didn't reply but he was pretty sure she'd told Dad about the whole dating-her-ex-CO thing. She'd even told Jack that Jacob had thought it was some huge, elaborate joke that everyone in the SGC was in on and how Jacob thought this 'joke' was *hilarious*.

Apparently, after they'd managed to convince him – "I'm not joking, Jack. It took a call from the PRESIDENT to convince him!" "You're kidding!" "Yeah, I am, but it was funny to see you go all white like that. You want the last slice of pizza?" – Jacob hadn't spoken a lot.

Jack recalled being ferociously glad to have been sitting in on boring Asgard diplomatic meetings in his dress blues, wearing the boxer shorts that always gave him a wedgie, rather than facing Jacob back on Earth. 

Gently, he jolted Carter. "Sam?" Nothing. "Sam? Carter?"

She moved her head. "Later," she said, patting his thigh.

He rolled his eyes. "That's nice, but your dad's here."

"Shhh," she slurred. Then she *rubbed* his thigh with her thumb. "Eat your peas."

Wow. This was too good an opportunity to miss out on. The potential for mocking her at a later date was so great. "The Goa'uld are attacking," he announced in a normal voice.

She sniffed and rubbed her nose against him. "Getta fork."

He snorted and considered his tactics.

On the one hand, he didn't want to face Jacob alone; on the other, he didn't particularly want to wake her up when she was so obviously out of it. She did currently need all the sleep she could get – balancing a semblance of a social life with her workload was currently running her a little ragged.

Jack began edging off the couch, putting one foot on the ground and one hand on the coffee-table to steady himself. When he was nearly extricated from her, he slid his arm out from underneath her torso and shook his circulation back to work. 

Carter slumbered on, her face now carefully smushed into a corduroy cushion. 

Cute.

He made for the front door, dodged Jacob's bag, and pulled it open, wondering where the heck Jacob had gone. Turned out Jacob hadn't gone far, he was just standing at the end of the front path, his back to the house, his hands deep in his pockets.

Jack raised his eyebrows. What the heck was he doing?

He looked down at his bare feet and decided he could risk it. Shoving the bag in front of the door to make sure it didn't slam closed, Jack carefully walked down the path to where Jacob was standing.

They stood side by side, admiring the road in silence. 

Jack didn't do silence very well. Well, he did, so long as it wasn't an awkward silence. Particularly an awkward silence with the father of the woman he was dating.

When it was apparent Jacob wasn't going to say anything, Jack gave in, "Jacob!" he greeted. "Good to see you."

Jacob sighed – whether this was because of Jack's facetious tone or at something else, Jack didn't know. "Hello, Jack." 

Glancing at his girlfriend's father, Jack decided Jacob wasn't looking particularly pissed, which could only be a good sign. "So... you want to come in? Or are you going to vacation here?"

"I should have called."

Jack blinked at the change in subject. "Yeah. Maybe." And, then, because he felt weirdly compelled to apologize, he added, "Sorry."

Jacob waved a dismissive hand. "No. I forgot."

"That we might be home? " 

"No." Jacob snorted. "That there's a 'we'."

"Oh. Right." Damn. 

"Understand," Jacob raised an imperious finger, "I fixated on the 'we' a lot for several weeks."

Jack's eyebrows went up, just a little afraid. "Uh huh?" No, that *wasn't* a squeak. His voice was just a little high-pitched, that was all. 

"I mean, whose daughter dates her CO?"

See! See – this was the conversation he had hoped to avoid! "Ex-CO."

Jacob's eyebrows shot up and he gave Jack a ferociously paternal look. Not unlike the look Jack liked to give Cassie's current boyfriend who really wore too many earrings than was normal. "You might as well still be her CO for all the difference it makes."

"Uh.... huh?" No, he didn't understand, but he was used to that. The previous night, Sam had tried to explain cold fusion to him over dinner. That had made him very unhappy. 

Of course, midway through the conversation she'd had some HUGE idea that meant she'd run off in the middle of dessert to jot something down and shove it into her bag for work the next day.

"I think it makes a lot of difference, Jacob," Jack managed.

"Not for her career."

Oh no. "That's absolutely not true. Absolutely *not*. There wasn't a single *whisper* of an issue over that, not in our files, not in the rumor mill, *nothing*."

"Two words, Jack: Zatarc. Detectors."

Whoops. 

"Okay, apart from that," Jack amended, wincing. "But that was a long time ago."

"Yes. It was. And it's that alone that stopped me from hunting you down." Jacob reached up and patted Jack on the back, solidly. So solidly that Jack stepped forward hard with his right foot and landed on something very sharp. 

He winced. Ouch. What the hell did he just stand on? A shard of glass? Christ! His heel was *killing* him. If Jacob wasn't here, he'd be whining like a baby.

"Er, thanks, Jacob."

"You're welcome."

He was so going to have to put some kind of antiseptic cream on his foot when he got inside. Maybe get Sam to take a look at it. OW! God! *Ow*. "So.... " Seriously, he was so damn impressed his voice was steady. His foot was literally *throbbing* in pain. "Did you see Daniel, by any chance?" 

"No. Why?" Jacob turned to face him, smirking.

Jack smirked back and discreetly lifted his foot slightly off the ground. Ow, ow, ow. "He was under orders to phone me if you turned up when Sam wasn't at work."

"Ah." Jacob nodded understandingly. "Surveillance."

"Yeah." Okay, Jacob appeared to be taking this pretty well, now. Maybe he'd been a little freaked out in the beginning, but that had apparently passed. Good thing too because Jack was now concerned he was going to bleed to death on Carter's pathway. "Do you want to come inside now?"

Jacob gave it some serious thought, then nodded. "I think so."

"Great."

They ambled back to the house in silence and Jack tried not to limp. When the door was closed behind them and Jack had discretely wiped his foot against his other leg, Jacob picked up his bag. "Spare bedroom still... the spare bedroom?"

"As far as I know. We don't, ah, live together."

"Oh. Right." Jacob glanced down at the pile of boots and sneakers by the wall – half of which were considerably larger than the others. 

"I have a lot of shoes" was all could think of to say. They really *weren't* living together, after all. They just... swapped houses occasionally. Usually together. He had a bigger back yard which was nice when the weather was good but she had a way better TV and hi-fi system with a DVD player that had lots of nice buttons. She was also closer to the base.

And all his shoes were here because, well, he liked to change his shoes. A lot. 

"Sure." Jacob jerked his head down the hallway towards the bedrooms. "I'll put this away."

"You do that." Hurriedly, Jack pulled together his manners. "Do you want anything to drink? Eat?"

His mother would have been so proud.

"Coffee." Jacob waved a hand in the air before opening the door of the spare room. "I could kill for a coffee."

Jack grinned at the thread of desperation in Jacob's voice. He always said 'no' when the Tok'ra offered him refreshments – and for good reason; most of their drinks tasted like ash. "Black? Cream? Sugar?"

"Just cream."

"Like Sam."

There was a pause. "Yeah. Like Sam." Jacob disappeared into the room and the door closed softly behind him.

The moment the door closed, Jack lost any semblance of cool he'd had and made a run for the couch. Okay, maybe 'made a hobble for the couch' was more appropriate. Sitting on the coffee table, he shook Carter's shoulder and reached for the box of Kleenex with his spare hand. "Sam! Okay, wake up!"

Her eyes cracked open. "Huh?"

"Your dad's here."

Her eyes closed. "Take him fishing."

Jack sighed and shook her harder. This was not the time to be cute. "Come on, wake up. Sam!"

"What?" She flung herself onto her back and covered her face with her hands. "What is it?"

He slid a wad of tissue underneath the heel of his foot, hoping to stem any bleeding that might be occurring until he could get a look at it. "You awake?"

"YES!"

Jeez, she didn't have to shout. He stuck a finger in his ear and wiggled it about. "Dad's here."

She dragged her hands from her face and blinked at him, her eyes still sleepily creased. Or maybe she was just getting wrinkles... not that he'd SAY that because she could probably kill him with the phone cord. 

"Dad? My dad? When did he arrive?"

"About five minutes ago. He's putting his stuff in the spare bedroom."

"Oh. Oh." Carter swiveled her legs over the side of the couch. "Ugh. How long have I been asleep?"

"A couple of hours."

She looked surprised – like she always did. "Really? Wow. I'm sorry."

"That's okay." He shrugged casually. "I'm used to it."

Carter gave him a searching look and Jack managed to look her as blankly as possible – he really *did* want to put off 'the talk' for as long as possible. Apparently, whatever she saw pleased her because she then leaned forward and kissed him impulsively. "Thank you."

He leaned forward and kissed her back, smiling. "Go see your dad. Want a coffee?"

She brightened perceptibly and stood up. "Oooh, yes, please."

So while Carter went off to bond with her dad, Jack stood in the kitchen (on one foot – the slightly bloody splattered tissues had gone in the trash) and pulled together three coffees and some cookies. He figured cookies were good for any occasion, even if these were slightly stale. He arranged them on a plate in a sort of fancy way and felt absurdly domestic.

Then he ate three in rapid succession, choked on the last one and had to drink some water from the tap to clear his throat, his wounded foot sticking out behind him as he tried to protect it. 

Yeah, he was pretty glad no one had been in the kitchen to witness that.

Oh, crap, were those... damn. On the floor, there were a row of little red splotches tracing his route from the fridge to the kettle and to the cabinet. His damn foot was still bleeding. Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap.

He dropped a damp cloth on the floor and swished it around with the toe of his bleeding foot, then picked the cloth back up and washed it under the tap. He was the king of domesticity. 

In lieu of a band-aid, and to stop him from bleeding anywhere else, he wrapped a few squares of paper towel around his foot. There. Perfect.

When he was done, he carried the tray into the living room where Carter and her dad were sitting and chatting about politics. "Here you go," he said, setting the tray down and standing by the couch near Carter.

"Thank you!" Jacob exclaimed, leaning forward and grasping a mug. "I've been dreaming about this coffee."

Sam laughed and looked up at Jack. "Aren't you going to sit down?"

He hovered, one foot raised slightly above the floor, the paper towel loose about his foot. He really did need to go and take a look at it; he could all but imagine the blood sticking the towel to the heel of his foot. Gross.

"Er..."

"What's wrong with your foot, Jack?" Jacob asked, looking at Jack's raised foot perceptively. "Is that... paper towel?"

Carter leaned over the arm of the couch and looked also.

Damn.

"I stepped on something." 

"Jack! There's blood on that paper towel!"

Jacob snorted. "He came outside in bare feet."

"Why the hell did you do that? You could have stepped on glass or something." She stood up, putting her coffee back on the table and taking his hand. "Come on."

He stood his ground, favoring his left foot slightly. "Where are we going?"

"Bathroom. I want to see what you've done."

"I can take care of myself!" he exclaimed, trying not to hear Jacob snorting into his coffee.

This was just so embarrassing.

"Oh yeah, and how are you going to look at your foot, smartass? You're not exactly Mr. Flexible."

Jack narrowed his eyes at her, knowing full well she was, in fact, milking this for all it was worth. Sometimes, he regretted not being her boss anymore and being able to order her about with abandon. At home, that situation was now almost permanently reversed. "You are so much more trouble than you're worth."

Jacob snickered, loudly and more obviously this time. Sam gave him a look and Jacob hurriedly reached for the remote. "Guess I oughta get up to date," he murmured, switching to CNN.

Sam pulled him into the bathroom and sat him down on the edge of the bathtub, flinging the paper towel into the trash can. "What the hell were you doing outside in bare feet?" she asked, fishing through the medicine cabinet.

"Checking on your dad. He didn't expect to see us." While her back was turned, he tried to pull his foot up onto his thigh but, damn, she was right. That wasn't going to happen. Maybe if he sat on the floor...

"Huh?" 

"Your dad wasn't expecting to see us together."

"I did tell him."

"That's not the same as showing him."

She grunted and sat down on the floor with antiseptic wipes and a face full of concentration. She lifted up his foot with no warning and he nearly fell into the tub. "HEY!"

"Sorry."

She didn't sound sorry. Carter had *no* bedside manners at all. "OW!" he yelped as she poked him with something. "What the hell are you doing?"

"That didn't hurt," Carter scoffed.

Jack rolled his eyes. "It did!" He pulled himself upright by clinging onto the rim of the sink and glared at her.

"It's just the antiseptic. Damn, I can't see if you've got any grit in there." She tilted his leg further up and Jack yelped once again as he lost his grip and pitched back into the bathtub.

There was a pause.

"You okay?"

Jack studied his chest, into which his chin was smushed due to the angle of Carter's not-so-wide tub, and grunted. "Oh, fine. I could probably sleep here," he replied, sarcastically. 

She moved his foot slightly and he felt something, her finger, poke at the sore spot on his heel. He winced. "We've slept in worse places."

"None as cramped as this." He started to inch his way out, using his arms to push him up the side of the tub and slide his butt onto the rim again. 

"I don't know. You slept in a tel'tac pod once."

"I didn't sleep in it, Carter," he protested, "I was *unconscious*."

She grinned at him, like she always did when he slipped and called her 'Carter'. "You haven't got any grit in it."

"Great. Can I have a band-aid?"

"Sure. Mickey Mouse or Goofy?"

He blinked at her. "You're joking, aren't you?"

"I am."

He blew out a breath, privately thinking she had the best poker face around. "Thank God."

She snickered and ripped open a band-aid and carefully aimed it over his cut. He thought he heard her mutter 'such a big baby' and he narrowed his eyes defensively. He wasn't the one who had to have a nap every afternoon and didn't eat her bread crusts.

"All done!" she announced brightly. 

"I'm not a baby," Jack told her firmly.

She scrambled up onto her knees and released his foot, smiling. "No."

"I'm really not."

"I know." Shuffling forward, she leaned up and kissed him, eyes open and watching him. "But I like taking care of you."

"Yeah?"

She grinned against his mouth. "Yeah. And thank you for being so... understanding."

He was being understanding? Right now? "That's okay." Clearly, he was far better at this relationship stuff than he thought.

Carter gave him a narrowed-eyed, suspicious look. "You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?"

Jack snorted and shook his head. "Not a clue."

She laughed and stood up, using his legs as a balance, then drew him to standing. "Never mind. We'll talk about it when my dad's gone."

"Okay." He touched his fingertips to her throat. "Just for future notice... "

"Mmm?"

"I prefer Goofy."

  


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